Outlines
by Iron Pendragon
Summary: The regin of King Arthur brought peace upon the land. No evil was afoot, no whispers of the dark was heard in the ears of the kingdom. All was fine. So it seemed. What people didn't know, was the the untold happings behind the castle walls. The outlines of a love so defined, so sweet and gental, that it cut like a sword's bite. Stung as it went deep. An outline of a tringle.


The sun sat on the round hill of the eastern borders in the northern providence of London, England, or, to put more correctly, what would soon be London, England, for now we shall call it Albion. It was a vast land. Full of forest, with thick trees that were placed by God's hand one by one, each one right next to each other leaving no or little space for sun to slip through. It was dark and quaint. Albion had many streams that ran out into banks and pooled into lakes that spotted the many town's walls giving the people fresh water. The waters also ran out into the ocean, out into the deeper, more vast, scary world. Albion had many small kingdoms each governed by a king and or queen. Some set in the backlands, or at the base of mountains, it really depended where you looked. Yet, the ruler of the land, the main one with more power who looked over all, was Camelot.

Now, if asked, one would say that the kingdom of Camelot was one of peace and prosperity. It had seen harsh times, but then again, dear reader, who has not? Camelot was a golden castle with the usual turrets, bridges, court yards, and gardens, nothing really out of the ordinary. It had a nice, small village with the shops and homes and a wall protecting this said village. The only thing different from the other kingdoms, besides that the fact that the king, a young, blonde, blushed man, with a good heart, a strong mind, and excellent skill with his epic sword Excalibur (a sword, if you believe the tales, that was pulled out of stone) was just placed into kingship after his Fathers tragic death, was what wasn't being seen by the eyes of those of the kingdom, even the world if you must be broad.

And what wasn't being seen, dear reader was this:

The young king, Arthur, closed the door to his private study behind him as he had finished looking at the many papers and legal documents and hue and cries of the people and kingdoms around his castle. He nodded to the guard outside and began to walk to the royal wing in the southwestern part of the castle. His mind wasn't on nothing much in particular, for there had been no taxing or pressing issues to deal with. It had been quite for a while. At least, that's what the kingdom thought, for something had been going on behind the walls of the castle, something that pushed and throbbed like a wound. That something, had too much to deal with the king's servant and his friend, or, was his friend until Arthur went and for the lack of better words messed up big time. But then again, what was he supposed to do? He thought he was going to make the right descion, but his fears, his demons got the best of him. His feelings for Merlin went beyond that of friendship or simple servant and master relations.

He still heard Merlin's cries at night when he slept, still pictured him smiling as he told him everything would be okay that he didn't deserve this, that he was going to end this, this kiddy game of hide and seek once and for all. He did, only to fall right back into the arms of Gwen. He loved Gwen, he did, and anyone could see this. Yet, the love he had for Merlin, which had blossomed and bloomed, was stronger. He had been courting Gwen for more than a year, yet, even thought she was sweet and kind at heart, and he'd give her the world….he was just not feeling it anymore. And when the young women began to act differently, more esoteric, more demanding of this and that, he was ready to snap the string and refuse that string with Merlin. But, things didn't turn out as planned. He hadn't really talked or made any sort of conformation with the Brown headed young man. Why? Simple, he was ashamed for what he had done. He thought that if he separated himself from Merlin that things would be easier, for both. He didn't believe it for one second.

He walked to the door of his chambers only to discover that they were left open a crack, enough for a body to get through. He could feel the cool breeze from the windows in his room flood out and into the hall. He looked up and down the hall. No guard, serving maid or serving boy stood in his view. He heard a soft thud from inside and decided to investigate. He put a hand on the pommel of his sword. Just in case.

What he saw made him stop and stare. His hand came off his sword and hung limp at his side. Merlin, his Merlin, was standing at the window looking out of it, his thin frame leaning against the wall, looking pale and thin, too thin. The king watched this moment of what the other thought was private. Even though Merlin served him, was his servant, he had kept a wide berth for two months.

Merlin turned from the window. His wide, green eyes, which were usually cheerful and full of light were dim and the light gone. They were red and puffy. King's meet with Servant's, Friend's met with friends, lover's met with lovers, hurt and begging met with pain and betrayal. All the memories came back in a rush.

Merlin looked away from Arthur's eyes and balled his fist, teeth set. He looked very much like he did that night: holding in his words because he didn't wish to hurt the other even though he himself was hurting.

Arthur took a small step forward and searched for the words to speak. What does one say to someone they had come to love, someone they had played with, without meaning to, someone they were so sure that were going to make their for all to see, someone you shared your bed with when the nights got cold, someone you loved? Someone you hurt by staying with the women you didn't love as you one thought? He could have said many things, all these words were playing up in his throat, but all that came out was, "Happy to see me?"

He knew he made a mistake as the first words left his soft lips. Merlin jerked his head back to him, looking livid. He took a step forward, barley touching the king, his breath ghosting Arthur's lips. A whisper.

"No."

_**Please leave a review if you would, dear readers, and the story shall continue soon. **_


End file.
